


bonus material

by blueberrynewt



Series: Heart Ceremonies [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 01:14:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20282962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberrynewt/pseuds/blueberrynewt
Summary: just a couple extras from Where Best Friends Are Made that didn't make it into the story. I may or may not add more as I write them; so far I've just got the 3 that I wrote while I was actually writing the main work.





	1. Chapter 6: Jim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember chapter 6? so many days ago? I couldn't write Bones' perspective for that chapter without first getting into Jim’s head to figure out what he was up to, so this happened. you already got a summary from Jim in chapter 17, but here's the full morning from his POV. it starts right where the first scene frm ch6 ends.

Jim lies still for a minute longer, savoring the sensation of Bones’ fingers carding gently through his hair. Breathing slow and even, he waits until he hears the front door scrape open and closed before he shifts and opens his eyes, blinking at the light filtering through the blinds. He pulls himself into a sitting position, back against the wall, then lets his head loll back, eyes drifting closed again. Why is everything so fucking exhausting?

When he forces his eyes open again, Jim notices the scrap of paper on the dresser and picks it up automatically. He half-smiles at it, then turns his attention to breakfast.

Having eaten, Jim drags himself to his feet and takes his plate to the kitchen to wash it. That done, he becomes uncomfortably aware that he's been in bed almost nonstop for something like thirty-six hours, and is starting to reek. So he heads for the shower, gets as clean as he can, and changes back into his own clothes. He tosses the borrowed sweats in the hamper.

Jim goes back to Bones’ room with the intention of perusing the bookshelf for something that will occupy his mind. Before he reaches the books, though, he's distracted by an array of photos on the wall, and stops to examine them.

Some of the pictures have Bones in them, and some have other people Jim doesn't know — a beautiful woman with a confident smile, an older lady with warm eyes — but all of them feature one character in particular: a little girl with dark curls, chubby cheeks, and a familiar shape to her blue eyes.

_ Joanna_. Jim remembers meeting her that afternoon at work, her bright laughter and the way she clung to Bones’ leg when she got shy. His eyes linger on a photo of her on Bones’ shoulders, clutching a cone of cotton candy and grinning at the camera. There's a clump of the stuff clinging to his hair and Bones is laughing, one hand holding Joanna’s feet while the other tries to wipe pink sugar out of his hair. He looks delighted. Happier than Jim's ever seen him. Jim remembers Bones’ laugh last night, when he was talking to Jo, and imagines he can hear the same laugh through the photo.

He wonders who took the picture, and his eyes drift to the strangers in the other photos. Mom, grandma, cousin, uncle? He can only guess at their relationships, but it's clear they're all family.

Jim bites his lip. _ Family. _ Right. That's a thing people have.

He doesn't know how long he stands there, thinking, but when he finally tears his eyes away, he knows what he has to do.

It's almost nine. He’s got a shift at noon.

Jim makes the bed, stops, then strips it and puts on fresh sheets. He stuffs the dirty ones in the washer and starts a cycle, then does a quick once-over to make sure there's no trace of his stay in the bedroom, bathroom, living room, kitchen. He takes Bones’ note from the dresser and stuffs it in his pocket. Then he lets himself out.

He catches a bus back home — thank God it's a Monday, Spock will be at work so Jim won't have to face his questions or his hovering concern — and changes into clean clothes. The remains of his phone are still on the coffee table and Jim salvages the SIM card before dumping the rest in the kitchen trash can.

When he shows up at work, twenty minutes early because he couldn't stand lingering around the apartment any longer, Jim's manager takes a while to notice him. When she does, she looks surprised. And sad, for some reason.

“Jim,” she says, in a tone that Jim's never heard her use before. It makes his skin crawl; he feels small. “I wasn't expecting to see you today. Don't worry, you're all set.”

“All set?” Jim frowns.

“You're off this week,” she explains. “Your friend called and worked it out. He told me what happened.” Her eyes soften, if possible, even more. Jim wants to kick something.

“Well, I'm here,” he says stiffly, “and I'm ready to work my shift. Okay?”

She frowns. “Jimmy, you don't have to —”

He wants to yell, _ Don't call me Jimmy! _ Instead, he does his best to smile. “I'd like to work my shift, _ please_.”

She relents, and Jim spends his shift wearing a practiced smile that falters when he lets his attention linger on one of the families that populate the shop. They all _ care _ about each other so much. They all _ belong. _

On his break, Jim's control wavers, and for a minute or two he thinks about Bones. Bones with his family, his daughter. Bones relaxed and happy.

Jim thinks about Bones, and hates himself for pretending he could ever belong. Bones is the closest thing to real family he's had in a long time. In his weakness, Jim allowed himself to believe that he could fit into Bones’ life, that Bones could fill that space in him that's been hollow for so long.

Losing Sam — the brother he hadn't heard from in four years — propelled him straight into Bones’ arms. Into Bones’ _ bed_, and damned if that isn't the most pathetic thing. He’s been using Bones, taking comfort from his affection. Pretending he deserved it. Allowing himself to believe, even for an instant, that he might belong.

_ Pathetic_.

Jim goes back to work halfway through his prescribed break, and glares at his manager, daring her to make him take the rest of it. She doesn't, and he doesn't think about Bones for the rest of the shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trivia: you know on the boardwalk in chapter 19, when Jim took a picture of Bones with Jo on his shoulders? the curious, awed look he gave them? yeah.
> 
> I like to think he added the new photo to their bedroom wall.


	2. Chapter 12.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a silly little interlude from between chapters 12 and 13. not smut. I just...had this scene in my head and it made me laugh so I wrote it down. maybe it'll make you laugh, too.

On the bed, Jim straddles his lap, and Leonard sets to unbuttoning his shirt. When he's done, Jim shrugs it off and tosses it aside, then pauses in his exploration of Leonard’s neck to ask, “You have condoms?”

Leonard lies back on the bed and reaches over to the drawer of his nightstand. He rummages for a second. “I'm a doctor, darlin’,” he points out, and tosses a box to Jim. “I'm always prepared.”

Jim turns the box over in his hands and raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, well, I actually get laid every now and then. Mine aren't  _ expired _ .”

“Are you kidding?” Leonard takes the box back and frowns at it, then flops back on the bed with a groan. “Wow, I'm really doin’ great here.”

Jim laughs. “It's okay, I got us covered.” He digs his wallet out of his pocket and flourishes it. “I know you're not supposed to keep them in your wallet, but it's better than nothing, right?”

Leonard just grunts and pulls Jim down to lie on top of him.


	3. Chapter 19: Jim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another case of "I couldn't write this chapter until I did this scene from Jim's POV, so now this exists." remember when Jim and Jo had that conversation in the yard while Bones was hanging with Phil and Chris? this is that.

He's out in the yard, tossing a tennis ball for Ophiuchus, when Jo comes outside. Jim grins at her and offers her the ball, but she just shakes her head and sits on the ground to watch. She looks troubled, a little furrow creasing her brow, and Jim throws the ball once more before settling in beside her.

“Hey, Jojo. What's up?”

She sniffs and rubs her nose with the heel of her hand.

“Can you tell me what's wrong?” Jim tries again. “Or maybe you could go talk to your Papa?”

She shakes her head violently at that, and Jim raises a hand in surrender.

“Okay, we don't have to talk to him. You don't have to talk to me either, but it might help. Maybe I can help you figure it out.” He examines her. “Are you mad at your dad?”

Another shake of the head, another sniff.

“Do you not like it here? Are you homesick?”

She shakes her head bigger this time, and finally speaks. “Don't wanna go home.”

“What?” That's unexpected. “How come? Are you mad at your mom? Or at —” his stomach clenches at the thought “— her boyfriend?”

“Nuh-uh.” She pokes at the grass. “Clay’s okay, I guess. He makes funny faces.”

“Well, can you tell me what the problem is?” Unsure if it's the right thing to do, he tries petting her hair the way Bones does. She immediately leans into his chest with a long exhale. Ophie, tired of waiting for someone to throw the ball, whines and licks Jo’s face. She giggles wetly and pats his cheek.

“Don't wanna go back to school,” she mumbles at last.

Jim keeps on stroking a hand through her curls.  _ I am so not qualified for this. _ “I thought you loved your new school.”

She shakes her head again. Ophiuchus lies down with his head on Jim's knee, tongue lolling.

“How come you don't like it?”

She shrugs. “It's so  _ far _ . An’ I don't have any friends there, an’ my teacher doesn’  _ listen, _ an’ I feel so  _ stupid  _ all the time!”

“Oh, Jo.” Jim puts his arm around her little body. “You're not stupid, sweetie. Not at all. You're the brightest five-year-old I know.” She doesn't respond, and he goes on, “Have you talked to your parents about this?”

“Can't.” She shakes her head back and forth against his chest.

“How come?”

“Cause they paid a lotta money an’ they want me to be happy an’ I — I oughta be.”

_ Ouch. _ Jim drops a kiss to the top of her head while his free hand rests on Ophie’s ribs. “Jo, sweetie, you don't have to hide this from them. It's true they want you to be happy, but they don't want you to just  _ pretend _ to be happy. They'll help you figure it out if you talk to them.”

“How do you know?”

“‘Cause that's what all parents want for their kids.”  _ The good ones, anyway. _ “They'll support you, Jo. You just gotta talk to them, okay?”

She wipes her nose on the back of her hand, then wipes her hand on the grass. “I heard ‘em fightin’.”

“Oh.” That's a feeling he knows a little too well. “Jeez, I'm sorry, Jo —”

“They were talkin’ about me. Mama thought I was asleep but I woke up an’ I heard her yellin’ at Papa on the phone, an’ when I listened real close I could hear him too, ‘cause he was shouting. An’ they said it was the best school an’ it was worth it, an’ Mama said Papa was bad for goin’ away to California, an’ they kept shoutin’ like they did when I was a baby.” She sniffs long and loud, then adds in a tiny voice, “I don't want ‘em to yell at me like that.”

Oh,  _ fuck. _ Jim swallows past a lump in his throat. “They wouldn't. They would never, Jo. Listen —” He leans sideways so he can look her in the eye and puts a hand on the side of her small, tear-stained face. “You parents don't get along with each other very well, I know. But they love you so much, Jo. So much. They would never, ever do anything to hurt you or scare you, no matter what.”

Her face crumples. “It scares me when they fight, though.”

“Yeah.” He bundles her up again. “Yeah, I know. I know it does, sweetie. I'm so sorry about that. So sorry. They are, too.”

They sit quiet for a while, while Jo cries herself out and Jim holds her and does his best to keep from crying himself. Maybe later; for now, Jo needs him.

When she hasn't sniffled for a while, he leans over to look at her. “All right, Joanna-bo-bana?”

She bites her lip and nods.

“So what do you think? Can we go talk to your dad?”

Another nod. Jim gets to his feet and lifts her into his arms, where she clings like a warm, snotty little starfish. “All right, let's go and find him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS there are in fact about 5 short sequels in the works, so if you're invested in this funky little family I advise subscribing to this series. :)


End file.
